


Fitting

by machtaholic (cinderella81)



Series: Tailor!Harvey Universe [1]
Category: Suits (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-25
Updated: 2014-08-25
Packaged: 2018-02-14 16:35:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2199039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cinderella81/pseuds/machtaholic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In an alternate universe, Mike got to Harvard and is working at Pearson Hardman and just got promoted to Junior Partner.  Harvey Specter is the city's most sought after tailor/suit designer in New York.  Watch them meet for the first time when Mike's assistant calls Harvey's assistant.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fitting

"Who the hell are you and what are you doing in my office?"

Harvey turned and looked at the ... kid that walked into the office. He didn't look older than 25 and he was dressed in a pair of black pants and a grey long sleeved shirt - not the sort of thing he expected a Junior Partner to be wearing.

"You're Michael Ross?"

"Clearly, since I'm asking you what you're doing in my office," Mike replied.

"I'm Harvey Specter," Harvey said. "And I can see why your assistant called. A diamond in the rough if I've ever seen one."

"I'm sorry, what?" Mike said. "I just got a call from my assistant telling me that I needed to get here asap."

"To meet me," Harvey said. "You've recently been promoted to Junior Partner, yes?"

"Yeah," Mike said. "You still have yet to explain why you are in my office." He jumped when a statuesque redhead brushed past him with a low stool and a large bag slung over her shoulder.

"This is Donna, my assistant," Harvey said. "And we are here to fit you with a whole new wardrobe of suits befitting your new status."

"What?" Mike blinked a couple of times as he watched Donna set up.

"I am the most sought after tailor in New York," Harvey replied. "Now strip down and get on the stool, I have work to do."

Mike’s jaw dropped. “Um, I don’t think so,” he said, running a hand through his hair in what Harvey assumed was a nervous tick. “For one thing, my office is floor to ceiling windows, on both sides.”

“Not an exhibitionist, then?” Donna said from her spot near Harvey, tapping notes into her tablet.

“What? No!” Mike replied.

Harvey bit back a grin at the flushed cheeks. “That’s fine, we can do this somewhere a little more private if you prefer,” he said smoothly. “If you’re done with your work for the evening -”

“I was done hours ago,” Mike interrupted. “Amy said it was an emergency.”

“It is,” Donna interjected.

“Donna,” Harvey said, slightly amused. “Since you’re done, we can go back to my shop, which is across town, or you can pick someplace you feel more comfortable.”

“More comfortable,” Mike muttered. “Fine, we can go back to my first apartment.”

Harvey caught Donna before she could make a comment. “Wonderful,” he said. “Care for us to follow you? Or you can ride with us.”

“I took a cab,” Mike replied.

“I have a car,” Harvey said, motioning for Donna to pack up.

Mike sighed and ran a hand through his hair again. “I don’t see what’s wrong with my current wardrobe,” he started.

“We can discuss that when we get started,” Harvey said. “For now, why don’t you tell me a little about yourself? Amy didn’t say much when she talked to Donna.”

“She mostly provided pictures,” Donna supplied with a smile as they followed Mike out of his office, to the elevator and down to the street.

Mike hesitantly talked about his life. How he’d worked his ass off, first in high school, getting a full ride to Harvard and then working two jobs and going to law school full time. He’d nearly missed his Pearson Hardman interview because he’d had to deal with the re-emergence of a former friend he’d thought was gone.

“And I worked my ass off at Pearson Hardman and worked my way to junior partner,” Mike finished with a shrug.

“Impressive,” Harvey said. “Junior partner at thirty.”

“So I’ve heard,” Mike said. He glanced up and realized they were at his apartment building. He dug his wallet out and paid the cabbie while Donna and Harvey got out.

“Nice building, nice neighborhood,” Donna said approvingly. “Top floor?”

Mike shook his head. “Third,” he said. “I just got promoted and I’m still paying off school loans - I couldn’t afford top floor in a place like this.”

“You will,” Harvey replied. “Come along Mr. Ross, we have work to do.”

“My suits are fine,” Mike muttered as he led the way inside and up to his apartment.

Once inside, Donna began to set up in the living room, pushing some furniture out of the way and setting the stool down and getting her tablet out once more.

“All right, as I was saying back at your office, strip down and step on the stool,” Harvey said. “No need to be shy, I’ve seen it all before.”

“Not mine,” Mike muttered. “Can’t you just take my measurements with my clothes on?”

“I could do that,” Harvey said. “But your suit wouldn’t fit as well.”

“As I said before, my suits are fine,” Mike replied.

“Fine, sure,” Harvey said. “But the colors are all wrong and the cut does you no justice. You look like an associate, not a junior partner.”

“I do believe the phrase is ‘clothes make the man’,” Donna said from her spot on the couch.

Mike hesitated for a few minutes before sighing. “Fine,” he muttered, kicking off his shoes and tugging off his socks before slipping out of his shirt and slacks, laying them carefully on the nearby chair before cautiously stepping onto the stool.

“Now, this won’t hurt a bit,” Harvey said, unrolling a tape measure. “Donna?”

“Ready,” Donna said.

Harvey moved carefully around Mike, quickly taking all his measurements. He’d seen the pictures that Mike’s assistant Amy had emailed Donna and he could see the potential. The right cut and the right color palette would make Mike look like … a Junior Partner. He called out all the measurements to Donna and tried not to make Mike uncomfortable. He understood that not everyone had experience with hand tailored clothes.

“Um … are these all the measurements you need?” Mike asked, feeling his skin flush a bit at how close Harvey was getting to certain parts of his anatomy.

“This should be the last one, yes,” Harvey said as he measured Mike’s inseam and called out the number to Donna. “All right, go ahead and get dressed and we’ll talk colors.” He bit back a laugh when Mike practically hopped off the stool and scooped up his clothes, hastily tugging them on.

“Colors?” Mike said. “I was just thinking black and … navy?”

“You need at least one black,” Harvey said, moving to sit on the couch, nudging Donna over to the chair so Mike could sit next to him, ignoring the knowing smile she shot his way.

“Okay,” Mike said slowly as he perched on the couch next to Harvey. “What else is there?”

“What else is there?” Harvey said, affronted. “Donna, tablet.” He took the tablet and began scrolling through all his fabrics, showing it to Mike, his knee brushing against Mike’s.

“I’d like to do one in dark blue pinstripe, one in linen for the summer, and a few others,” Harvey continued, watching the look of confusion spread across Mike’s face. It was actually kind of adorable.

“I’m … so out of my element here,” Mike admitted. “Why don’t you just … pick.”

“I think you would want some sort of input into what you’re going to be wearing,” Harvey said. “You know, it’s kind of late. Why don’t we pick this up tomorrow?”

“You have some time tomorrow after three,” Donna said from the chair.

“I have a little work to do tomorrow,” Mike said.

“On a Saturday?” Harvey said, his tone a bit teasing.

“A Junior Partner never stops working,” Mike replied with an almost shy smile.

“Well then, why don’t we meet for dinner,” Harvey said casually. “We can look at samples and designs and take our time and pick things out that you like, but don’t look like they’re from Brooks Brothers.”

“Dinner, huh?” Mike said. “I think I’ll be free by then.

“Wonderful,” Harvey said as he took a card out of his jacket pocket. He took a moment to jot something on the back and then passed it to Mike. “My cell number’s on the back. Give me a call tomorrow and we can pick a time and place for dinner.”

Mike took the card, blushing as his fingers brushed Harvey’s. “I’ll give you a call,” he said softly. “And we’ll talk suits.”

“Right, we’ll talk suits.”


End file.
